


Ass Back Home

by Queen_Preferences



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Ass Back Home, Gay, M/M, Monday Night Raw - Freeform, Plane Ride, Slash, gym class heroes - Freeform, lyrics, missing each other, song lyric fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8579698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Preferences/pseuds/Queen_Preferences
Summary: Summary: A lyric story inspired by Ass Back Home by Gym Class Heroes and Neon Hitch. Brock Lesnar and Tyson Kidd thought about traveling separately.





	

Title: Ass Back Home

Author: Queen_Preferences

Rating: T

Fandom: Wrestling

Pairings: Brock/Tyson

Characters: Brock Lesnar, Tyson Kidd

Summary: A lyric story inspired by Ass Back Home by Gym Class Heroes and Neon Hitch. Brock Lesnar and Tyson Kidd thought about traveling separately.

Disclaimer: The WWE is not mine nor identities of all the wrestlers on WWE roster despite how badly I want them. This fan fiction is completely mine and I own everything inside beside the characters. Reviews, and comments are welcomed.

* * *

The plane rose gently as Tyson looked around from his husband, Brock Lesnar out of reflex. Slumping down in his seat as he realized he was traveling alone yet again. Tyson watched the air moved around against the clouds as he rose farther into the sky.

_I don't know, where you're going_

_Or when you're coming home_

_I left the keys under the mat to our front door_

_For one more chance to hold you close_

_I don't know, where you're going_

_Just get your ass back home_

Brock Lesnar ignored the bickering of his manager, turning towards the window he watched as the light began to disappear. Grabbing his beats he slipped them on silencing Paul out completely; rolling his eyes as his husband favorite song came on.

_We both knew this type of life didn't come with instructions_

_So I'm trying to do my best to make something out of nothing_

_And sometimes it gets downright shitty in fact_

_When you call and I don't even know what city I'm at_

_Or what day of the week in the middle of the month_

_In a year I don't recall_

_It's like my life's on repeat and the last time we spoke_

_I told you I wouldn't be long,_

_That was last November, now December's almost gone_

_I'd apologize but I don't realize what I'm doing wrong_

_I don't know, where you're going_

_Or when you're coming home_

_I left the keys under the mat to our front door_

_For one more chance to hold you close_

_I don't know, where you're going_

_Just get your ass back home_

Tyson played with the water he ordered swirling it around in the bottle before placing it down. Ignoring the curious look from his fellow wrestlers. Watching out the window he leaned his head against the cold window.

_And you've been nothing but amazing_

_And I never take that for granted_

_Half of these birds would have flew the coop_

_But you, you truly understand it_

_And the fact you stood beside me,_

_Every time you heard some bogusness_

_You deserve a standing o 'cause they'd a just been over it_

_Let 'em talk, let 'em talk, let 'em talk, let 'em talk_

_Like we don't hear what they saying_

_Let 'em walk, let 'em walk, let 'em walk, let 'em walk_

_We'll just drive by and keep waving_

_Cause you and I above all that_

_Just let them wallow in it_

_Now they all choked up, yuck_

_Cause they be swallowing it_

_I don't know, where you're going_

_Or when you're coming home_

_I left the keys under the mat to our front door_

_For one more chance to hold you close_

_I don't know, where you're going_

_Just get your ass back home_

Tyson sighed softly as the light of sun began to disappear and go down. Letting the darkness take over, Tyson let his thought wander to Brock. Humming the song Ass Back Home, softly the song that connected him to Brock.

_No one hold me down like you do sweetheart_

_You keep doing that, I keep doing this_

_We'll be alright in the end_

_Trust that_

_We put the us in trust, baby_

_Aww, let's go_

_I don't care what you're after_

_As long as I'm the one, no_

_I don't care why you're leaving_

_You'll miss me when you're gone_

Brock cracked his knuckles as he stared into the face of Roman Reigns on Monday Night Raw. Those beats hanging around his neck playing Ass Back Home that only he and Roman could here. He didn't focus on the man before him allowing Paul to talk for him, he focused on the song playing. It was the only thing that connected him to Tyson who was millions of miles away.

_I don't know, where you're going_

_Or when you're coming home_

_I left the keys under the mat to our front door_

_For one more chance to hold you close_

_I don't know, where you're going_

_Just get your ass back home._

Brock smirked as he dropped his bag beside the door turning the living room light on. Tyson was sleeping against the dinner table he's face barely missing the plate of steak, baked beans and mac and cheese. An identical plate directly across from him with an plastic cover over it. Leaning over Tyson, Brock gently lifted his husband into his arms.

"I'm home baby."


End file.
